Acuada
by SOLID MATTIC
Summary: This story follows a small group of characters on a planet called Acuada, which plunges into mortal danger as it is invaded by a terrible foe. The story will involve a couple of farmers, a PDF sergeant and a Rogue Trader as they fight to survive.
1. Anxious Giants

The sun beat down on the vast grass plains of _wild country_. Called that by the people who lived on the planet Acuada, _wild country _held the last of the world's Great Plains and forests that once stretched planet wide before the Imperium had begun colonisation and cultivation.

A small four-wheeled buggy nosily crossed the huge fields of tall yellow grass. From above it would have been easy to track its path by following the long buggy sized lines of crumpled yellow grass that had been etched into the land. The buggy bounced every once and awhile as it hit uneven terrain, jolting its gangly long haired driver up and down onto his seat.

For the hundredth time the driver cursed under his breath at the lack of quality of his vehicle. The bouncing hurt his arse and chafed the inside of his legs; it was slow and prone to breakdowns, the crude engine ate up precious oil and spat out foul smelling grey smoke from a rusty pipe behind the driver's seat. The worst part though was the noise, it was almost intolerable. One day he had forgotten his earmuffs and had been almost stone deaf by the time he had gotten back to the cabin. The buggy was wholly inadequate for Drahid's needs, the creatures he had been studying for years could hear, smell and see him coming from miles away.

Drahid loved wildlife and had taken up a career in studying the last of Acuada's great beasts. Hunted down in the other four continents of the planet as the emotionless, impassive tech priests of the Mechanicum made room for worldwide farmland, the wild animals of Acuada had been reduced to a single small continent in the south hemisphere. While perfectly arable, the continent labelled _wild country_ by Acuadians was considered too small for interest by the Mechanicum's agents and was left to its own devices.

Drahid drove the buggy up the slope of a small hill and cut the engine. With a sigh he got out of the buggy and stretched his arms and legs, glad to feel the breeze on his sweaty limbs. During midday the grass plains of _wild country _could really heat up but after being forced to endure the sweltering heat inside the old buggy Drahid was not complaining. Sitting himself down and stretching out his legs he surveyed the ground before him. Off in the distance he could make out the largest creatures Acuada had to offer.

The creatures resembled the mythical dinosaurs of Old Terra and their huge bodies reached almost thirty metres long including their long necks and powerful tails. Drahid watched fondly as they moved their short stubby legs towards the Krakenny River. An interesting feature of these creatures, other than their gigantic size was that they had five legs. The fifth leg was an extra hind leg, even shorter and stubbier than the rest. Drahid had seen them use this leg only to help them rear up and increase their already impressive size when fighting predators and rivals. They were called Giantgemo, which Drahid was told translated to "Gentle Giant."

Drahid began to trek down the hill towards the creatures, he left the buggy and his earmuffs were they were, not wishing to upset or panic the Giantgemo with the buggy's excessive noise and smell. This was not because Drahid was afraid of the giant creatures. True to their namesake Drahid had rarely seen the Giantgemo engage in acts of violence without excessive provocation and despite their size Drahid had never felt in danger when around them. The giants were plodding closer to the Krakenny River, their normal drinking spot. The Krakenny River looked and felt huge to Drahid. It stretched from the upper north mountain regions of _wild country_ all the way through the central grass plains and went out to sea in the south. He wondered if the river looked more like a small stream to the Giantgemo. As he got close Drahid could begin make out each individual giant in the herd. This close he could easily feel the massive vibrations the plodding giants made with every step. Drahid frowned. The herd appeared to be missing members from the last time he had visited a couple a days ago. Fight? Predators? He doubted both, he had never seen a fight turn fatal between rival Giantgemo and predators could only realistically take down the old and weak. Drahid could clearly see the only aging Giantgemo at the centre of the herd, it appeared to be still going strong.

Puzzled Drahid continued to walk closer. The tall yellow grass went up to his knees and more than once he slapped away a buzzing insect. As he got nearer he knew he had to be careful to not get trodden on, Giantgemo were peaceful but not exactly too caring of what they walked over. He could now see the tiny triangle shaped scales all over the creatures tough hides that blended in together from a distance, while small collectively the scales helped cool down the giants as the sun beat down on them. Drahid's frown deepened. Up close he could see that the Giantgemo weren't moving in their usual casual plod as it appeared from a distance. They were moving their tails and necks restlessly from side to side. They seemed to be almost zigzagging towards the river rather than moving in a straight line. _It's like their fidgeting, as much as a giant can fidget_. Drahid found himself very happy that he hadn't brought the buggy. It seemed to him that anything could set off the normally peaceful giants.

Drahid kept some distance as the Giantgemo reached the river. They were calling to each other with more frequency than usual, Giantgemo were normally quiet creatures discounting their thunderous footsteps. Their low melancholy calls filled the air as the leading members of the herd drooped their giant equine looking faces into the cool clear water. The Giantgemo were not the only creatures at the river. Birds of all kinds gathered around the Giantgemo, many perching on the giant's backs. Smaller animals were also present, but like Drahid, they sensed the Giantgemo's mood and kept their distance. Only a Balruiner ventured close. Drahid watched the reptilian creature anxiously as it drank from the river. The Balruiner's webbed feet and powerful tail that equated roughly half of the reptile's size were completely still as its head dipped down slowly into the river, its eyes moving slowly from side to side. Drahid was not fooled by its casual display, he knew that when in need the reptile would curl up into a ball and propel itself forward by rolling at frightening speed. While curled up Balruiners reached roughly the size of a small man and were one of the few creatures of _wild country_ that Drahid was afraid of. Subconsciously his right hand drifted down towards his holstered autopistol, he had no wish to use it against any creature but he also had no wish of allowing the Balruiner's lethal jaws and needle sharp teeth sink into him.

Evidently the Balruiner felt it could escape the wrath of the giants if it needed to. Drahid tried his best to ignore the lethal predator, as it appeared to be content to simply drink from the river and barely spared Drahid a glance. Drahid realised the last Giantgemo at the end of the herd was walking peculiarly, it seemed to dislike putting weight on its left hind leg and was lowering itself every time it did so it could use the shorter fifth leg that was normally only used to rear themselves upwards. Intrigued Drahid moved himself around the herd so he could see the Giantgemo's left side.

Drahid gasped as he finally got round to look, the giant was around middle age, about thirty years old. It was powerfully built and was probably one of the main protectors of the herd when danger arrived from predators and was obviously one of the alpha males. But it was struggling and Drahid could now see why. There were three deep bloody gashes on the Giantgemo's left hind leg and another two on its flank. Red blood flowed freely onto the yellow grass. Appalled by the terrible damage that had been inflicted on the poor beast Drahid let out a small moan and moved forwards slightly.

Looking closely he could make out small objects, no bigger than a finger dropping from the wounds in the creatures flank. He could also see bigger objects, imbedded in the gashes and cuts. Drahid couldn't work out what they were, they seemed sharp and tough, yet organic. Teeth? Maybe bone? They looked like neither and a foul looking liquid trailed down the Giantgemo's flank onto the ground as well. Carefully he slowly approached the giant. His footsteps made crunching sounds as got closer. He stooped down and picked one of the smaller objects up. It was a grub, they were all grubs, it felt hard and was obviously dead. Sickened he dropped it back to the ground and looked back up at the struggling giant.

He saw that his initial thoughts were somewhat correct. The objects imbedded seemed to made of some sort of tough cartilage, while the liquid was a kind of purple ichor. It smelled awful and Drahid gagged slightly. Some of the cartilage objects were obviously teeth or claws, they all looked like some kind of body part. Something or something's had attacked the Giantgemo and had bitten or clawed so hard that bits of their teeth and limbs had been snapped off and left imbedded in the giants armoured hide. Drahid felt a shiver go down his spine, yes something had attacked the Giantgemo, but he had no idea what kind of creature or creatures would attack so viciously that they would have no compunction in losing pieces of themselves.

Drahid began to trek back towards his buggy an ominous feeling growing in the pit of his stomach.


	2. An Almost Farmer

Everard Morone swore at the screen in front of him, once again it was flashing red as yet another bastard machine broke down in the fields. The third today and it was barely passed midday. He once again cursed to himself at the irony of how little actual farming he did on one of the largest farms in the sub sector. He was in the living room of his wooden house on the edge of the corn fields. The room was dark as the window shutters kept out most of the sun's rays in a vain effort to keep the temperature down. Other than the small screen hanging from the wall keeping him apprised of the goings on in the fields there was only a small dining table with a simple white cloth covering it and a scattering of wooden chairs.

The house was a strange contradiction. On the whole it was a very basic, almost primitive building with flakboard walls and cheap wooden furniture. It lacked any form of lighting outside of kerosene lamps or candles and you needed to light a match to ignite the ancient stove. But scattered around the house were pieces of modern equipment, screens displaying the status of the machines in the fields, logic engines in the basement working out approximant yields, a small pict taker that Everard had never gotten to work and a vox machine in his bedroom.

Everard ignored the flashing screen, and all the other screens in house which were doing the same, walked past the stairway to the second floor and entered a small kitchen. Taking a glass from a shelf he plunged it into a rusty metal bucket full of water. The Administratum praise be its name had decided in its wisdom that running water was required only for crops and cattle. Evidently it felt that they were more important than the people who actually ran the great farms of Acuada. Everard smirked slightly to himself. Run was perhaps too strong a word for what he and the other inhabitants of Acuada did, the Mechanicum machines and tech-priests ran the farms, he like everyone else was just here for maintenance. He wasn't a farmer; not really, he was more of a mechanic or even more aptly a maintenance man.

Stroking his white stubble beard he put down his glass and turned to head outside. He stopped at the door and turned back to look up at the stairway.

'Candace! I've got to go down into the fields again, another bloody machine has just broke.'

There was no answer from above.

Everard called out again to no answer. Shrugging he opened the door and stepped outside. Immediately smacking into a woman in dirty orange overalls,

'Crap!'

'Sorry, sorry daddy, are you ok?'

Everard steadied himself and smiled down at his daughter.

'I'm fine Candace, were did you come from I thought you were up stairs?'

Candace bristled and pulled at the bandana around her short brown hair.

'While you were asleep in the living room again I went to deal with a broken machine out in sector four, those damn cog boys and their shit that's what the third today?'

'Throne, when I woke up the screen was red again so make that four, this time its sector two.'

Candace scowled and scrunched up her face, Everard hated seeing that look on his daughters face. He knew when he was her age his face scrunched up the exact same way.

'All right dad, I'll go deal with that one too. It won't take too lo-'

'No, I'll go, just cause I'm in an "advanced age" doesn't mean your dad can't show you teens how it's done.'

Candace gave a small smile, Everard was a little more than just "advanced" in his age but he still moved around like he was in his thirties. Glad to get out of the heat Candace nodded.

'If you're sure daddy, take my vox so you can call me if you get into trouble.'

'Hell Candace I can barely get the one in my room to work never mind your's. Just like the pict taker, the smaller they get the harder it is to get the buggers to work.'

Candace shook her head at her father's techno incompetence.

'Fine, just be careful.'

Everard left the house and walked over to a small dusty open topped tracked vehicle which he used to get around. The vehicle was roughly square and barely reached Everard's midriff. Everard had used it for his entire life and had no idea what it was, what it was called or were it came from. He didn't much care, he knew it was tracked, was tough and had never needed serious repair. He knew were the steering wheel was, which pedal was which and were to put oil in to keep the bastard running and that was enough for him.

He checked that his tools were still in the back and leaped over the side into the driver's seat. The vehicle had no doors, Everard suspected that it was once a military vehicle of some sort, he'd never seen the PDF using anything much like it though. On the other hand as far as he knew the thing predated anything the PDF had. Heading off towards the corn fields, Everard reflected on his daughter's and his recent woes. The last week seen no fewer than twenty machines breaking down in the corn fields and Everard and his daughter had been working day and night to get them back up and running.

Everard reached the edge of the corn field's first sector. The fields were divided up into fifteen sectors over a roughly rectangular area of over eighteen hundred hectares. There were thousands of such fields for corn and other crops along with cattle farms across the planet. His house, located just west of the first sector was now completely out sight. Driving along the edge of the fields Everard's vision couldn't penetrate even slightly into the mass of tall crops. The fields had never needed any kind of barrier; crops had always grown to the exact limits of the fields defined hundreds of years ago by the Mechanicum. Now however, for the first time in his life and as far as he knew the first time since the fields were created the crops had begun to grow beyond the fields limits. Everard had seen good yields before but nothing like what he and his daughter had been seeing in the past week. _If I didn't know any better I would say their growing wild_, Everard thought to himself as he drove along the edge of the first sector.

There wasn't a road exactly along the edge of the corn fields, but the use of the tracked vehicle for over a hundred years had worn a clearly visible path. He could hear the multitude of machines tending to the crops but could only see the tops of the largest of them. The crops now reached over twice his height and obscured anything else. He passed a rectangular piece of wood propped up against a large rock with the words "SECTOR 2" written in fading red paint. He stopped the tracked vehicle and leapt out. He slung the strap of his bag of tools across his shoulder and walked towards the mass of crops. There were supposed to be pathways throughout fields that you could walkthrough but the overgrown crops now obscured them utterly. With a sigh he plunged into the mass of vegetation, hoping he didn't hit a machine.

Instantly he realised his mistake. His world was suddenly very small, surrounded on all sides by vegetation he struggled to get his bearings, he couldn't see and all he could hear was the rustling of the crops he was bounding into. He tried to turn back but he didn't know were back was. He tried to cry out but every time he opened his mouth he gagged on vegetation. Panicking he stumbled around wildly looking for any opening in the mass of crops, he found none. His mind racing he tripped and fell heavily. Groaning he lifted himself upwards, to his relief he realised his fall had led him into a more open area.

In front of him lay a massive machine, roughly spherical the machine was the size of a heavy truck. While it barely came up to his hips around the sides, the machine sloped upwards sharply and at its centre it towered above Everard and the crops. It was the tops these machines that Everard could see before he entered the fields. All round the underneath of the metal sides were lethal looking curved blades. When working, the blades would spin relentlessly as the machine moved around the fields, cutting through and moving the crops into the machine's centre were they would stay until they could be deposited for harvesting.

This one was most definitely not working, the blades were still and silent and Everard could see faint wisps of steam rising from the top.

'So much for the bigger they get theory,' Everard muttered to himself. 'Damn plodders.'

The Mechanicum had designated this kind of machine as a Crop Collector, in its typical lack of imagination. Everard and the other inhabitants of Acuada called them plodders, due to their large size and almost painfully slow speed. Everard could tell immediately that this plodder was down for the same reason as all the others. He could feel the heat rising off it despite the fact that it hadn't been moving for at least a couple of hours. Even the cold machines had been overworked in the past week. Like the others the plodder simply could not keep up with the increasing workload of the overgrowing crops. With almost every working part of the machine overheating, it had finally shut itself down before any serious damage could be done.

Everard whistled to himself and threw down his bag of tools. He knew from experience that only one would help. Putting on his tough grox skin gloves he quickly pulled a rusty crowbar out of the bag and walked towards the plodder. He lifted himself onto the hull, careful not to touch the hot metal with any bare skin and worked his way around to the machines rear. The only way to tell front from rear was the small square panel on the rear side of the machines sloping centre. Normally you could open the panel with a simple screwdriver but

'Yep, fused all together, son of a bitch…' Everard murmured.

Prying away at the panel with the crowbar Everard could have sworn he could feel the crops growing around him even as he worked. He was unsure whether he was having a harder time with the plodders panel or with shaking off the painfully ironic feeling that he was an almost farmer who was about to be killed by his own crops.


	3. A Warp Traveller

He struggled to his feet. He had fallen why had he fallen? He looked down at his hands, his eyes were bleary but he could tell they were slick with something. What was wrong with his eyes? He took a step and slipped forward, barely keeping his balance. A red liquid sloshed beneath him and made it difficult for him to get a grip. He realized the liquid was blood.

'In minus twenty.'

Were the Throne was he? Whose blood was this? Questions racing through his mind he walked across the blood slicked floor towards a swinging door. As he approached the door he broke into a run. But he still felt so slow, as if something was pulling at him, or as if his legs were made of led. He finally reached the door and got outside. He heard screams, fire.

'In minus eighteen'

Ahead of him was a man, a man he knew. The man was dressed in expensive purple robes and was staring at him with a blank, vacant look. He heard more screams and something else, a cry a shout. It reverberated around him.

'_Waaaaaagggh!'_

He shouted out to the man he knew in the purple robes. The man's vacant expression remained. The man's mouth opened slowly.

'In minus fifteen.'

'What?' he shouted back. 'What do you mean?'

'Repeat in minus fifteen.'

'What?'

* * *

><p>Patas DelaCour woke. He was sweating slightly and he was breathing as if he had been jogging for the past twenty minutes.<p>

_Gakking warp dreams._ He gritted his teeth and got himself out of his bed. His room was sparkling clean as always. It was small but everything in it was high class and gratuitously expensive. An antique desk with gold handles sat next to a tiny closet full of suits and robes fit for a King. The bed was full of the finest silk and a golden chandelier hung in the ceiling. A cherub lazily floated around it, playing with the candles.

Within a few minutes of getting dressed and brushing his teeth in a small sink directly next to the bed Patas no longer showed any signs of the nightmare he had woken up from. Patas was no stranger to the dreams that plagued those travelling through the warp. Living on the _Casanovius _for most of his adult life had exposed him to all kinds of warp horrors and mysteries. Patas took a moment to take in the gentle hum of the ships engines. While many would find it irritating the sound had become second nature to Patas and helped calm him down in times of stress.

Or times when warp dreams struck hard. Patas winced as the dreams events ran through his mind again. He looked up at the floating cherub.

'Haven't I told Leden to kill you already for being one of the most creepy gakking things I've ever seen?'

The Cherub didn't answer or even change its vacant expression. Even if it could have answered it would likely have had little retort to the insult. The cherub's face was lined with grotesque scars that ran from its forehead to its chin. The left side of its lower lip had been torn away, revealing some of its rotten gums and undeveloped teeth. Its skin dirty and grey it looked more like something from a warp nightmare than a lovable pet.

'In minus ten'

Patas groaned again, looked away from the cherub and headed out of his room through its hatch door and onto the crew quarters deck. The walls and ceiling of the crew deck looked like they were made of marble and were coloured brown. The floor sparkled and Patas could see his reflection in it. Either side of the deck were five other closed hatch doors which lead to rooms not quite as lavish as Patas' but still roomier than the average Imperial vessel. As Patas walked quickly through the deck the sounds of his shiny black boots echoed and bounced around. Patas liked that a lot, always made his walk to whatever part of the ship (usually to the living and dining area to laze around) sound important. He was dressed in an immaculate bright green vest and black trousers. He reached a metal stairway that would take him up to the ships bridge. Behind the stairs was another hatch door that would lead him to the living area.

'Easy choice there.' He grinned to himself.

'In minus five.'

Patas scowled, changing his mind he took the stairs.

The bridge had a completely different feel than the lavish crew deck. While the crew deck was bright and welcoming, the bridge was cold and dark. It was so dark in fact that the bridge looked smaller than it was as the darkness swallowed up empty areas. The only light source came from three small rows of data banks and screens attended by two silent servitors. In his younger years Patas had once asked to open the massive protective panels that blocked the bridge's view of the outside during warp travel, unnerved by the lack of light. The then captain of the _Casanovius _scolded him immediately and had sent him to the observatory deck as a kind of punishment. Patas never asked again. He had realised there were far more unnerving things than darkness when travelling through the warp.

'In minus two.'

Patas moved quickly towards one of the bridges intercoms and turned it on.

'Damn it Shwartz how many times do I have to tell you. Enough with your bloody countdowns. Unless there's an emergency just tell us when were there. And where's Leden?'

The slow, monotonous voice of his navigator answered him.

'My countdowns are designed to rouse you to full focus and concentration as soon as we reach our destination in case of any unforseen danger, you may recall approximately two point three years prior to today a certain pirate ambush were this procedure was rather useful to our continued existe-'

'You do it to annoy me Shwartz. Where is Leden?'

'Leden Griess is currently in engineering.'

Patas stood up on the tips of his toes as he tried to read the data screen with the engine diagnostics.

'Still? Why is there a problem?'

'There is no problem with the ship. Griess is currently engaging in auto e-'

'Okay, anyway,' said Patas hurriedly. 'How about that countdown?'

Patas had met many navigators in his time and he had never trusted any of them. Personally he saw them the same way he saw psykers, as creatures that were by default completely insane and untrustworthy. Shwartz had served as the _Casanovius_ navigator for almost five years, a great deal longer than most.

Despite his prejudices Patas had built something of a working relationship with Shwartz. At the very least he trusted Shwartz to guide them through the warp without it resulting in a painful and horrifying death, which was more than he could say of some of his previous navigators.

'We will be dropping out of warp travel in minus thirty seconds.'

With a nod Patas turned off the intercom and ended the conversation. Other than when discussing practical matters there was little point in talking to the taciturn navigator. It appeared to Patas that Shwartz staved off the madness that swallowed up other navigators by immersing himself fully in not just his work but in every piece of data he could get his hands on. The Navigation and Observation Deck or the "nod" as Patas and Leden called it for short was full of a myriad of books and data files that Shwartz could access at a moments notice.

Patas' understanding of the warp was a separate reality entirely made up of conflicting emotions which navigators guided ships through. Patas considered it an irony that Shwartz could navigate through this "great ocean of emotions" so successfully when it appeared to the entire universe that Shwartz had none himself.

'Jumping out of warp space now.'

Patas watched as the two silent servitors began to flurry around the bridge data banks like two birds around a nest. Deftly moving between them he activated the dials that controlled the protective panels around the bridge and told them to retract. They slowly began to roll back and light entered the bridge to reveal its full size to the human eye. He then walked back to the intercom.

'Right, Griess stop whatever it is that your doing and get up to the bridge, were here.'

He had to wait a few seconds for a reply.

'I'm coming Pat, there was just a few extra things I needed to get done down here. Ten minutes.'

Knowing it would be more like twenty Patas turned around to see that the protective panels had fully retracted. A weaker transparent material was all that now separated the bridge from the cold emptiness of space. His eyes were instantly drawn to the massive round shape of the blue and green planet in front of him. Acuada, the second largest planet and bread basket of the Alphas subsector.

There were other shapes around the planet, many were moving. Patas frowned as he took in the sheer number of them all. They were ships of many kinds and sizes. Patas' trained eye picked up that they didn't seem to be moving with any kind of cohesion. _Separate traders, doing separate deals_. It would appear he was not the first to arrive at Acuada looking to cash in. The Rogue Trader Patas DelaCour changed his frown into a kind of feral smile and his eyes glinted with anticipation.

'This might just get interesting after all.'


	4. Hunted

Drahid paced back and forth inside a small cabin. His discoveries at the Giantgemo herd were not the only ones. Before he had made it back to his cabin he had encountered more injured animals. A Balruiner with a bloodied snout and chunks of its tail missing and a Bulliedo, a bull like creature with armoured scales, which appeared to be ensnared in a giant web. Bulliedoes were freakishly strong but it could not break whatever substance the web was made of and its panicked cries still rang in Drahid's ears.

Once back in his cabin, Drahid had found that others in _wild country_ had been encountering similar mysteries. While Drahid was alone in his cabin, he kept in touch with other like-minded individuals through a long range vox. Currently there were a dozen researchers like Drahid across the continent all studying the various kinds of wildlife _wild country_ had to offer. Many had left messages detailing what they had seen.

Taheen, a woman very interested in the birdlife of the northern Tizcanna Mountains had left a message that new flying creatures had emerged from the caves. Afraid for her safety she had hidden herself as these new 'multi limbed, flying reptilian creatures' as she described them began systematically destroying anything they found. She also described the same kind of dead grubs that Drahid had found falling off the Giantgemo. Except for her they were falling from the sky along with anything that wasn't the new flying reptiles.

Gerard, a young man who spoke with a fast and nervous high-pitched voice had recorded that he couldn't shake off the feeling he was being followed or 'hunted' as he put it as he studied the wildlife in the continents south west jungles. While Davin a brown coloured and gangly man like Drahid, said he was finding very strange vegetation that was obviously non-indigenous. Davin said in his recording that the vegetation pulsed with a sickly green colour and smelled 'almost as bad as Drahid's mother.' Drahid tried to smile at Davin's vulgar joke; Davin had been the last person to report in and had obviously heard the other recordings. Drahid could almost see Davin's pained expression as he tried to force some levity.

It hadn't worked; Drahid had been pacing for almost twenty minutes after chewing on his nails had stopped being enough. Something was going on in _wild country_ and Drahid had no idea what. He almost tripped on a chair leg and forced himself to stand still and take stock. His cabin, small and vaguely rectangular was even more messy than usual. Papers and folders lay everywhere, evidence of Drahid's frantic attempts at finding some precedent or explanation for what was happening. Picts were scattered around a wooden desk and an unmade bunk bed. Drahid had lied on the bed for a good hour, sifting through picts made by him and previous researchers, searching for something similar to what he had seen and heard from his colleagues. Finding nothing useful, he nervously procrastinated while waiting for others to call in. The last vox from Davin was an hour old.

Drahid moved out of the cabin, seeking fresh air. The sun had gone down a few hours ago but a full moon meant he could still see much of his immediate surroundings. The cabin was situated atop a small plateau that overlooked the Krakenny River to the west. During the day Drahid could see for miles in all directions. The plateau was a good spot for Drahid's cabin as it attracted little attention from anything other than insects and small birds. There was little vegetation other than a few clusters of brown coloured bushes and the ground was merely dirt. A few steps from the cabin lay circular pit were Drahid would sometimes start a fire to cook and stay warm. The buggy was parked inside a tent a few metres away from the pit.

Now that the sun had gone down the temperature had decreased drastically and Drahid was tempted to start a campfire. Normally he wouldn't have hesitated but even isolated on the plateau he felt a nagging feeling that he didn't want to attract attention to himself. He cursed himself at his edginess. He had been studying the creatures of _wild country_ for years, he shouldn't be this anxious. But he couldn't shake off the thought that he was encountering things that he hadn't encountered before. That something had changed in _wild country_. The insects were strangely quiet and the birds he had seen were behaving erratically. He could have sworn he saw a flock of birds travelling resolutely west over the river only to see the same flock flying back in the opposite direction twice as fast just minutes later. To add to that if he listened carefully he could still sometimes hear the Giantgemo still calling to each other in the distance, though he knew that most of the herd should be sleeping by now.

Mentally shaking himself, he decided to light the fire. The consequences be damned, he was experienced in everything this continent had to offer and he could handle anything it could throw at him. Drahid went back into the cabin and came out with a bag full of flammable material to distribute around the pit. He could scavenge for flammable materials well enough but they were also dropped in along with food, water, medical supplies, oil and other useful items every month by valkyries of Acuada's PDF. At first Drahid was flattered at the perceived generosity but over time realised the PDF pilots had nothing else better to do and performed the drops mostly to stave off boredom.

The flames leapt up higher than he expected and he shielded his face with his arm. The campsite lit up with light instantly and Drahid enjoyed its warmth, feeling himself calm down as it spread throughout his body. Sitting himself down next to the campfire and stretching out his legs, he closed his eyes and drifted off in a kind of daze.

His eyes snapped open and he pushed himself to his feet. Something was watching him. Spending so much time in _wild country_ had given him something of a sixth sense for the dangers it posed. After being around Balruiners, Caniraptors and other predators, as well as harmless herbivores such as the tree dwelling Monkas and the placid Giantgemo, he had grown to understand the difference between being watched with curiosity or indifference and when he was being hunted. This was the latter.

Drahid scanned the area around him anxiously trying to make out something, anything that would reveal to him his hunter. Perhaps an ambitious Balruiner, he disregarded a Caniraptor, he would have seen or heard something so large coming awhile away even in the dark. He began to move cautiously towards the cabin his eyes still desperately searching for his hunter. He got to the door but before he could begin to open it, he heard a noise. It sounded like a scratching, something sharp scraping on the cabin's metal exterior. There was something behind the other side of the cabin.

Slowly he drew his autopistol from his holster and turned the door handle as quietly as possible. He made to go through the door but an irresistible urge to look up seized him. He gave out a scream of terror and fell backwards onto the ground. Above him, perched on top of the cabin was a monster. Its features lit up from the flames, Drahid could see every detail of the monster in a single glance. Three times Drahid's size it stood on two hoofed legs that were bended forwards in kind of crouch, as if it was preparing to spring. Its body appeared to made of some kind of chitin and had an armoured carapace. Half way up its body were menacing arms ending in vicious long claws. Two beady eyes stared unflinchingly into his own while below a mouth of long slimy tentacles dripped saliva onto the dirt. Most prominent of all its features though were its two huge talons, which it held above its head, completely still and poised to strike.

Drahid scrambled up and forced his legs to move. Hysterical, his autopistol discarded and forgotten, he ran past the flaring campfire and away from the terrifying monstrosity. Not bothering to look back, he did not see that the monster had not yet moved from the top of the cabin. Drahid ran blindly on, screaming as he went. His screams were cut short as something burst through his chest. Blood and bone flying out in front of him, he found himself being yanked backwards towards the cabin. His body flew back through the campfire and slammed into the side of the cabin, breaking his spine. Barely conscious he found himself sliding upwards onto the cabins roof. The monster stood over him its talons raised, its beady eyes still staring into his. The talons slashed downwards and ended his life.


End file.
